Talk about Love
by Spandauballet91
Summary: When John Cena asks the entire locker room for relationship advice; Big Show hopes Chris Jericho does not have an answer. Very light slash.


Since his relationship with Chris it was safe to say Paul's popularity had gone down some in the locker room. Paul had put it down to Chris's little problem of 'if I open my mouth before I think then I'm both witty and funny' or his moralistic outlook of 'honesty is the best policy'. Paul stroked his goatee, others just put it down to Chris Irvine just being an asshole. He could not fault them completely for having that outlook.

The show had finished and the majority of the rooster who had performed that night were in the locker room. The familiar smell of sweat and different brands of aftershave and deodorant filled the musky space. Paul was already dressed. He had performed first and had the pleasure of being the first one in the locker room to shower and change. His lover, Chris, had performed last and would require more time. Something Paul Wight was already dreading.

"So, when do you think the best time is to y'know… propose to someone?" John Cena said loudly to anybody in the locker room who was willing to listen and answer. Randy Orton looked up, as did Paul Levesque.

"You were married before, man. Forgotten how to do it?" Remarked Randy with a playful grin on his face. John smirked and threw the rolled up towel he had been using around his neck at the other man.

"Yeah well… I just want to do it right. Nicole's very special and I guess I want to… y'know," John smiled bashfully before he pulled on his shirt to hide his red cheeks.

"You want to seduce the lady? Oh Johnny, you romantic thing you. Can't help you though," Paul Levesque pulled a DX hat onto his head. "Just don't do what Shawn did with me. I don't care who or what you are – being proposed to in a roadside diner is not cool."

"But you still said yes," John said with a shrug.

"He paid for the fifty chicken wings, man. I could hardly say no."

"I proposed on an exotic vacation. A late night walk on the beach, the smell of the barbecue hut a few metres away…. The champagne I handed to her just before I pulled out the ring. That's how you woe a girl, gentlemen." Randy sat back against the bench and looked down at the bare finger his wedding ring had once nestled. How something so perfect could go so wrong. A lesson in life he had learnt and one he had never forgotten.

"My proposal to Elizabeth was something similar man… so the moral of this story is; propose in a fried chicken place and you'll never get divorced and live happily ever after?"

"Ha ha very funny," Paul stood up to his full height and grabbed his gym bag. "I guess if I was the one who had to propose… it would have been over dinner I suppose. At a restaurant though, not Wendy's."

"It was an independent restaurant who happened to sell chicken wings and was situated near the highway," the gruff voice of Shawn Michaels yelled into the locker room from the doorway. "Why do you have to make me sound like such a sleaze, Hunt? And you'd have never proposed anyway so it's a good job I did whether it was over fried chicken or lobster Thermidor. Now come on! I don't have all day to wait for you to complain about me."

"Great, thanks John. You've got me in trouble." his bag in hand, Paul made a move to follow his husband out of the locker room and back to their hotel. Nobody said anything as he left but most, if not all of the guys present, smirked from ear to ear.

"I think the way he's going his own divorce is due soon." Randy snickered.

"Nah, I think they'd be lost without each other. Hunter would starve to death and Shawn would have no one to boss around."

Paul Wight, who had been listening silently from his own position on the bench, finally picked up his courage. He may not be the most popular guy around here anymore but he was not disliked. Maybe he could salvage something.

"I agree with Paul. A proposal over dinner is simple and she won't be expecting it," Randy and John both looked at the giant for a brief moment as if only just realising he was there. John blinked and Randy looked away from him at his T-shirt which was stuffed into his bag. Paul frowned, had things gotten this bad?

"I mean… that's how I would do it if I wanted to get married. Something nice and simple yet un-expectant like… sort of set the tone. Your marriage is not going to be one big vacation, it's going to be normal and stuff. Make her feel special but not a princess because… although you'll want to treat her like one, real life just gets in the way."

Paul coughed slightly. The entire locker room was silent and its occupants stared at the rather large man who had spoken. World swallow me now; Paul thought all of a sudden feeling no bigger than five foot.

"Paul, that's… that's actually a good idea. Thanks." Said John with a smile. "I never thought you would be so romantic and dare I say it: gentle."

"Yeah man, that is pretty sweet. I hope you meet that would be princess one day and plan to marry her," Randy added trying to help John breath the awkward silence.

"Maybe. I don't think about it much," Paul added with a shrug.

"You'd make a great husband. You listen, I mean! I didn't even know you were here and yet you've taken in everything. That was probably where I went wrong with Elizabeth-"

"Oh sweet lady divinity! Somebody gag me with a spoon!" The room was quiet again and numerous pairs of eyes rolled. Chris Irvine padded out of the shower room with a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair dishevelled and wet. John Cena did not waste time and quickly stuck his cap onto his head, zipped up his bag and picked it up. Chris continued. "Can you old women not hear yourselves? All this romance and crap, all this marriage?! What a load of asswipe. You're all a bunch of ignoramuses!"

"I wish somebody would gag you," Randy muttered. He too zipped up his gym bag.

"And silence the only person here who has any brains? The only person here who understands and expresses coherent opinions? I think not, Orton, I think not. Everybody knows the only way to a woman's heart is to make her know you're the man. You! Women love to be hated, they love to be slapped about a bit. All this crap about romance. BAH! You chumps. The way to a woman's heart is through the cruelty you inflict."

"You're an idiot." John said simply.

"Am I? What's the biggest selling book this year? It's about a woman being slapped about by a big strong man," Chris crossed his arms over his chest and nodded his head to help empathise his point. John rolled his eyes again, picked up his bag and swung it over his shoulder.

"I would love to sit here and discuss your inane ramblings Jericho but, I would rather jump in front of a bus."

"Oh very mature Cena. Hey, is this could be why your first wife left you? Because you talk so much proverbial crap?"

John did not say anything else in response. He stomped out of the locker room with his bag in tow. Randy picked up his own, glared once at Chris and then moved his eyes over to Paul. He shook his head at the large man and then followed his friend John out of the locker room. Like sheep, the rest of the guys followed. Chris and Paul were alone.

"Finished?" Asked Paul.

Chris turned around on his heel and stood face to face with his lover. He smiled inanely at Paul as if he knew what he had done was wrong but got a kick out of it. Paul narrowed his eyes and lent forward on his elbows.

"C'mon Big Guy, you've got to admit it—they were talking-"

"_To me_. They were talking to me, Chris. Not to you. Why do you always have to open that big motor mouth of yours?" Paul sat back up to his full height. Chris and he were eye to eye. "Can't you ever just… not?"

"Not talk?"

"Yes! Just keep it shut, don't open it. You always get us in trouble with it. I was actually trying to make some friends again but your 'proverbial' mouth did it again. God Chris, just zip it."

"But-"

"Zip it."

"But Paul-"

"You're not deaf so just shut up!" Paul snapped.

Chris opened his mouth to say something but promptly clamped it shut again. He looked down at his bare feet with his puppy dog eyes as if he had been struck with a rolled up newspaper. Wounded and deciding it would be best to just lick his wounds, Chris side-stepped away from Paul and his hands dug about in his own open gym bag.

Paul watched him. He was quiet as Chris pulled his can of deodorant from the bag and sprayed both of his underarms. He put the can back in the bag. Then, he picked up the hairbrush and ran it through his short wet hair. Chris never said a word. He just stared at the white wash wall and performed his after performance routine. It ate Paul up. Despite Chris being such an asshole at times, seeing Chris like this just broke Paul's heart. Regardless of the trouble it brought him, the sound of Chris' voice brightened everything up. Paul sighed and reached out for his smaller lover. Chris did not fight him, he let Paul wrap his arms around his torso and pull him in between his tree trunk legs.

"Stop looking so sorry for yourself," Paul whispered when he brought Jericho up against his chest into a hug. Chris crawled up onto his lap and buried his wet slicked back hair into Paul's chest. "I don't get you Chris... why don't you ever think before you speak?"

"Does it matter? They all think I'm an asshole anyway," he muttered.

"Because you are? The only person you're not an asshole to is me."

"Yeah well you're not an assclown like them." Chris lifted his head up off Paul's chest and nuzzled his neck. "I _love _you."

Paul rolled his eyes.

"I thought you hated romance. Was that not the point of your rant?"

"No. The point of my rant is that sometimes _women _just liked to be slapped about by a big strong man. Not everybody is into conventional romance, that's all."

"Oh? Well last time I checked a certain someone loved to be wined and dined." Paul said with a rather large smirk. Chris shrugged his shoulders.

"Sometimes wannabe princesses need a jolt back to reality?"

"You sneaky little bastard, so you can be quiet when it suits you?"

Chris smiled lopsidedly before he pressed a gentle kiss to his partner's mouth. Paul returned the kiss and both sat in the empty locker room in each other's arms a little while longer.


End file.
